


What Friends Do

by amusewithaview



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Post-Series, Unresolved Sexual Tension, resolving sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-11
Updated: 2011-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-24 12:49:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusewithaview/pseuds/amusewithaview
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dawn just wants to be friends, and Dean's okay with that. Really!</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Friends Do

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by channel surfing and coming across the movie Happy Gilmore, specifically the part where Adam Sandler says, "What? Friends listen to 'Endless Love' in the dark!"

_POOF!_

The vampire holding Dawn in classic victim-pose exploded into dust around her, prompting a massive coughing fit as she sucked in a lung-full of grave dust. “Oh god, gross!” she exclaimed, whirling and delivering a solid punch to the ribs of the person responsible for all the icky corpse-dust coating her hair. “I totally had that under contr – oomph!”

Dean held her so tightly she thought she heard her ribs creaking. She remained in his arms, not moving a muscle, for about three seconds. Then she started to struggle. No dice, he had an iron grip… heck, an iron _everything_! Mmmm… No! Bad Dawn!

“Dean.  _Dean_. Verging on not-friend territory here.”

“What?” he said, words muffled into her hair, “Friends hug friends after near-death experiences!”

She finally managed to shove him off, ignoring the wounded-puppy look in his eyes. “Where’s Sammy?” she asked more to distract him than anything else. Then she frowned, where  _was_  Sammy? “I swear, that boy has more magnetism than Xander ever did!”

“What do you mean,  _magnetism_?”

“Get a life, Dean. He’s like the older-slash-younger brother I never had!”

“Just checking.”

+++++

Dawn first met Sam in a chat room. One of the special ones Willow designed so hunters could get help from the Council without actually seeking them out. A lot of the older (read: smarter) solo-hunters were wary of the once-mafia-esque organization; most of them just logged on, asked their questions, and logged off again. At first, Sammy was the same. Eventually though, Dawn managed to worm her way past his shield and they became good friends. For a while, she entertained thoughts – ok,  _fantasies_  - about the possibility of something more than just friendship. That all ended the first time she met him in person. They had no chemistry. None. Zip. Zilch.  _Nada_.

Not so her and Dean. They were more like a motel doused in gasoline and other flammable liquids that was being used to house a smoker’s convention. However, through the course of their correspondence, Dawn and Sam had each indulged in quite a bit of venting (bitching) about their respective sibling’s over-protective tendencies and awful dating histories. Buffy with her monsters and Dean with his everything female (and legal).

Dawn pulled the friend card. Told Dean straight up that platonic was all she wanted. He bitched and pouted and tried anyways for a while, but Dawn was stubborn and a Summers woman to boot. Eventually he stopped. Mostly. He was still a little more touchy-feely than she was entirely okay with and tended to act like a bear with a sore tooth when guys flirted with her, but they had a tenuous balance.

She was traveling with them now. Turned out there were a couple of very interesting prophecies regarding the duo. When Dawn found out that the Council was planning on sending a representative to “keep an eye” on them, she was the first one to point out that they were pretty wary of strangers and wasn’t it oh-so convenient that she already had an in?

That was what led to her current situation. Rattling around in an old impala with her best friend, his incredibly hot older brother, and oodles of UST. It was actually pretty fun, all things considered. When Buffy had kicked up the inevitable fit, Dawn had reminded her that post-graduation road trips were a time-honored Scooby tradition. So what if hers had been postponed till her college graduation? If she wanted to cross-country demon slay with the Winchesters, then by goddess, she was gonna!

And she did.

+++++

“I’m bored. There’s nothing to do in this town!”

Dawn was lying across one of the beds, head hanging off the edge while Sammy fiddled with his laptop and Dean watched the television. They’d kept separate rooms for the first couple of weeks, but eventually she’d just started crashing with them. Usually one of the boys would take the couch, or chair, or share with his brother. There’d been a little awkwardness at first what with sharing a bathroom and all, but after Sam had a talk with Dean the innuendo stopped (or at least was toned down) and Dawn got rid of the murderous glint in her eye.

“Thought I saw a theater when we drove in,” Dean said, never once taking his eyes off the television screen. “Wanna go catch a flick?”

Dawn stiffened and then forced herself to relax. “What kind of movie?”

“ _Transformers 2_  just came out.”

If it had been anything even remotely girly or date-like, she would have said no. But this… this was doable.

Almost as if he’d read her mind, Dean looked over and shot her a lop-sided grin that did not -  _did not!_  – in any way affect her heart rate. “What? Friends go see movies with friends all the time!”

+++++

“We’ll know if he's infected within twelve hours,” Dawn said, chewing her lip worriedly. “We can’t take him to a hospital until then though, they’ll ask too many questions if he  _is_  infected and then we'll have to get him out of there quick before he – “

“Turns purple and starts breathing fire? Shit!” Dean kicked the end table, cursing viciously under his breath. “Goddamnit! What do we do in the meantime? Can we do anything for him?”

“No, just try and keep him from moving. The stiller he stays, the less likely it is that the poison will spread.” She moved to her suitcase and started rifling through it, coming out with two pairs of knee-high striped socks. “Here,” she tossed one rolled-up pair to Dean, “tie his hands to the headboard, I’ll get his feet.”

Once that was done, they stood watching Sam breath raggedly for a few minutes.

“We’ll know one way or the other in – in just a few hours.” Dawn blew out a breath, “I’m gonna try and get some sleep, ok? I’ll call Willow in the morning and give her the heads-up, there might be something she can do if – if he does go over but – “

“Right now all we can do is wait,” Dean sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “We should both try and get some rest…” he glanced around the motel room. No couch, no chairs, nothing but two beds and an itty-bitty table between them. “Mind if I share with you?”

“I don’t know…”

“C’mon, friends have sleepovers with friends all the time!”

“Co-ed sleepovers?”

“Sure!” Dean smiled winningly, “I won’t try anything funny, I swear. I just – I think I’d sleep better with – “

Dawn nodded tiredly, “Yeah, ok.”

Waking up in Dean’s arms had been the second-best part of her day (right behind Sammy’s  _not_  being monsterfied by Holgathor demon-slime) and that terrified her. She was trying so hard not to be with him, but she was  _always_  with him! He was always  _there_  being Dean with that smile and his concern, which wasn’t smothering but still totally there, and – goddamnit!

It didn't help that Sam had totally pulled her aside after the slime-incident and given her the go-ahead. Telling her all about how Dean was different now that she was around, how he'd cleaned up his act and hadn't picked up a single girl in any of the towns they'd been in since she joined them two months ago. Damnit! What was he thinking telling her all that? Like things weren't hard enough...

“Dawn? What’s wrong? You’re all tense.”

“Huh? Oh, I’m fine.”

“Friends tell friends… stuff.”

She grinned teasingly, “Thought you hated chick-flick moments, Deano?”

He shifted uncomfortably, “I do but, well, you’re a chick and I figure a few… moments are sort of inevitable, you know?” The hunter moved over and sat on the bed with her, draping an arm across her shoulders. “Tell me all about it.”

Dawn tensed at the first brush of his skin against hers. She was in her pajamas: a thin tank top and shorts and he was wearing a wife-beater and boxers (the latter having been a present from him to her, they were a gift  _to her_  because the other option was him sleeping “raw”), shivering a little, she tried to move away. “There’s nothing to tell. Really.”

“Oh yeah? Then why – holy crap you’re tense!” he said, eyes widening. He slid his hands over her shoulders and started rubbing her back, “Man, you’re tighter than a – nevermind…”

“Dean! What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, but she didn’t move away. She couldn’t, it felt too good.

“What? Friends can give friends back rubs. If it’d make you feel better you can do me after I do you.”

His hands were so magical she didn’t even comment on his – possibly unintentional – double entendre. Her muscles slowly unknotted under his careful ministrations and eventually even her bones felt liquefied. Before she knew it she was on her stomach on the bed with him kneeling straddling her hips while he rubbed along her spine.

“Mmmm…” she moaned, arching a little. “Right… _there_.”

Dean stopped moving, hands resting just above the swell of her rear. Slowly, Dawn came back to herself enough to feel the sudden tension in the air. Inch by inch, she scooted until she had rolled on her back and could look up into his eyes. They were dark with emotion and his jaws were clenched so tight she would have sworn he had a dimple in his left cheek.

He leaned down, first resting his weight on his elbows to either side of her shoulders, and then letting his full bodyweight come to rest on her. She said nothing, just stared as his face – his lips – came closer and closer and then suddenly they were just  _there_  and touching hers. The kiss was nothing like she’d expected, smooth instead of rough, tender where she thought to find overwhelming passion. And then it changed, becoming everything she’d imagined and more.

Eventually she worked her hands up to press against his shoulders, pushing him away.

“Dean…” her words were breathless, her eyes large and slightly glazed, but no less troubled.

“What?” he asked, every bit as out of breath as she, “Friends can give friends hot, wet, tongue kisses.”

“ _Tongue_  kisses?” Dawn asked incredulously, “What are you, twel – mmph!”

They weren’t friends anymore. Probably never had been. And Dawn was okay with that.


End file.
